The Other Year One: Stone Heist
by Demon Eyes Laharl
Summary: -AU- Harry Potter's funds are dwindling. To correct that, he plans a daring heist: stealing the Philosopher's Stone. But with Dumbledore guarding it, the Girl-Who-Lived watching him, and someone else after it, he may have bitten more than he could chew.
1. Chapter 1

_Who is Harry James Potter? A war orphan, son of James Potter and Lily Evans Potter, who due to the actions of the self-proclaimed Dark Queen, Beryl, and her followers, grew up alone in the world, with only Sirius Black, his godfather, as a companion. _

_As a statistic, he is a troubled soul, but no more important than anyone else... so when I met him during my first years in Hogwarts, I had no expectations of him. He was another face in the crowd. He was another Wizard on this world. _

_Of course, that is false. Harry James Potter is no ordinary Wizard. I have called him many things… a schoolmate, a juvenile, a criminal, a genius, an associate, once a friend, almost a lover. _

_Who is Harry James Potter? No one knows. Not even those who knew him. _

_- Susan Bones_

* * *

Knockturn Alley. It has a rather dark reputation with good reason. For Muggles, a place like this is what they would call a black market. Black market, hah. For Wizards, Knockturn Alley was nothing more than Diagon Alley, except it was geared more to the darker side of Magic. Its narrow and darkened alleyways make it difficult for Aurors from the Ministry of Magic to patrol, and with a close-knit community, hiding contraband materials were easy as long as you had either an understanding or money.

Harry James Potter hated the place because it was stuffy. It had just rained heavily yesterday; the humidity reared its ugly head, and Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead for the umpth time, his rather pale skin looking somewhat bright under all the limited lighting. He just glared at his godfather.

"I hope this is better than last time, Sirius," he muttered softly, looking a bit annoyed.

Sirius Black laughed, ruffling the boy's hair with his left hand. The man was handsome, his long hair done in a ponytail, and though he looked jovial, one must not underestimate the man. He had been a fully trained and capable Auror on his prime, before the death of his best friend, the father of Harry, James Potter.

"It will be, Harry," the man replied. "Terry's pretty good at gathering information of oddities. The rarer the item, the higher the chance of getting said information. Of course, his prices are premium."

"We should have gone to him the first place," Harry said.

"You were getting short on Galleons, Harry. The others were cheaper."

"And ultimately useless," the boy countered. "Glad we didn't pay them. The only thing we had wasted is time. I hope this one won't be."

Sirius looked a bit sheepish. "Terry's my last option. If he can't help you, Harry, no one can."

"We'll see..."

The two walked around, the smell of stale potions and rotting carcasses of animal wafted through the air, each turn of a corner offering something new to the palette. Some alleyways were silent and empty, the others bustling with life. It took a while, but suddenly, a movement caught Sirius' eye, and his wand came out quickly, putting Harry behind him.

A figure emerged from a dark corner of the alley. Sirius tightened the grip only to lower it when a Wizard in a dark green robe flashed a smile at them.

"Hey, Black!" the man called.

"Terry... by Merlin, man, don't sneak around us like that! I would have hexed the living daylights out of you!"

"And risk losing the information you need?" Terry smirked. "Not the bloody hell likely. Come on, scoot here. I got what you need."

Terry called them on a narrow alleyway corner with a dead end. There weren't much people around, and the only few passing were too engrossed to talk to each other to overhear them. Harry took a deep breathe, and began to concentrate on keeping his face still. He was going to be conducting business. He didn't need to give the man any advantages in their negotiations.

"What do you have?" Harry asked.

"What you were looking for my boy was somewhat difficult to track. Very difficult," Terry began.

"Spare me your babble. I know how hard it was for you to find it," Harry declared neutrally. "That's why we pay you."

"Heh, cheeky kid," Terry looked at Sirius. "Bet he's going to be a hit at Hogwarts."

"If he'll attend," Sirius shrugged.

"Yeah, sure. Who wouldn't want to go to Hogwarts?"

"Well, this boy here just told me to burn his admission letter," Sirius replied, and the boy, for a moment, stared threateningly at his godfather. Sirius immediately raised his hands in defence.

"Well, I'll be," Terry chuckled. "Big plans, Mr. Potter? You know, there are some rumors you starting something big, costing you a lot of gold, and considering you are looking for this particular item, it makes sense."

"Let's go back to business," Harry quickly declared. "So... do you know where it is?"

"Yup. Apparently, the particular item you are looking for is locked in a Gringotts Vault Number 713. Very high security as well."

Sirius slapped his thigh with some exasperation, while Harry's face, if possible, hardened even more.

"Oh no worries," Terry stated. "I have it on good authority that it is going to be transferred to Hogwarts soon. Apparently, word was out that someone is seeking it."

"Us?" Sirius asked.

"Actually, no. Your involvement on this said item is very hushed. You two do good work in keeping your tracks hidden. The only reason why I even know you, Mr. Potter is because Sirius is an old friend, and I owe him my life," Terry shook his head. "No, I'm afraid a third party is looking for that particular item. And thus, the great Albus Dumbledore himself has taken the liberty of guarding said item."

"Sheesh…" Sirius shook his head. "Great. Goblins are bad enough, now we have to pass by Dumbledore?"

"Quite," Harry agreed. "Gringotts is already a very hard place to break in to, but not impossible. Hogwarts on the other hand… would be almost impossible to break into."

The school was pretty much its own autonomy. Magics so strong that not even the Ministry of Magic would dare try to interfere on it directly without at least consulting the Board of Governors first, who are probably the only authority for Hogwarts, and it is only for Staff, and not the school itself. If that wasn't enough, the headmaster of the school is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock if the Wizengamot, the highest body in the Wizarding Community of Britain. One does not try to make an enemy of the one who vanquished Grindelwald and the only Wizard the Dark Queen had been cautious to face.

"Sirius... pay the man," Harry declared after a somewhat uncomfortable moment of silence. He then turned and left their meeting area. Sirius followed after giving the man a pouch filled with gold.

Terry looked surprised, and opened the pouch, making sure that he was being paid for what he was promised. He then looked at the retreating boy, and asked, "That's it? No tests, no questions if my information is accurate?"

Harry looked at the man. "Your pupils rarely dilated, you also were calm and collected indicating you have given me no lies. I wasn't just looking at you for nothing. The possibility of you hiding yourself through Occulemancy is a risk, though you admitting you owed my godfather a life debt goes more to your favor. In any case that your information proves to be useless, or worse, treacherous, Sirius will find you, and will make you thoroughly regret it."

Terry just stared at the boy, and smiled widely. "When Sirius said you were a smart, I doubted him. Now… well…" he paused, and his face went serious. "Someone is going to get the item from Gringotts this week. Dumbledore is sending someone he apparently trusts to get it."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"The gamekeeper of Hogwarts, apparently," Terry shrugged. "I don't know the man. I think his name is Hagrid."

"Thank you for your information then," Harry stated as he continued his walk, his godfather walking beside him. When they were far away, the boy looked at the man, and stated, "Keep Terry as our business associate once his information falls to place. And give him our finest Firewhiskey for Christmas. I think your friend deserves it."

* * *

Susan Bones just sighed as she flipped the channel, somewhat bored. It was late afternoon, and her uncle, Thomas Bones was supposed to be on his way home. He called in through the phone just a few minutes ago, so she was going to wait for him.

Her uncle was a detective of a small town of Hampershire. Her parents died, an accident her uncle said, so she grew up under his care. He was a very kind man, and she had no doubts of his love for her. She was the daughter he never had.

She grew up with his stories. Most were quite overblown when she was young, but as she grew old, he began to fill in a bit more darker details of the job: office politics, the choice of the lesser of two evils, and paperwork. His uncle hated paperwork.

He told her she had good instincts. He would at times review some old cases with her, minus the gory details of course, and she would give pretty good insights. He told her she had impressed him, and that was no lie, nor a overestimation. She had quite a good head on her shoulders, and he would even begin to ask her for some time in his current cases. It was a system of well-constructed mind games and had sown the seeds of Susan Bones' personality.

Susan was a girl with a high moral fibre. She would get in trouble, going around the little neighbourhood trying to take on loiterers and vandals. Made her pretty unpopular with the kids at her age group, and had the adults smiling at her antics. She pretty much set herself to be a police officer.

Of course, that was until she received a very peculiar letter.

**Hogwarts School **

_of _**Witchcraft **_and _**Wizardry**

The letter was a bit too elaborate for Susan to dismiss immediately. The whole thing sounded silly, but for some reason, she felt, somewhere inside of her, that this was anything but a joke. Her 'good ol'' instincts were working once more; the little tugging feeling of her gut every time her uncle would tell her the details of his old cases, her mind suddenly connecting mundane facts that impressed her uncle so much.

It was back when she was five… she remembered it so clearly. Her toys suddenly seemed to pop alive, and floated around her. It scared the life out of her. Her uncle found her crying in the bathroom, the toys outside the shut door, waiting for her to come out.

Thomas told her it was fine, but never did explain. She didn't need any. All she wanted was a reassuring loved one near her, and so, she dropped any question she could have asked that day, and left the whole experience alone.

Until today.

Her mind began to formulate theories. Why were her toys floating around her like that, walking around as they were alive? There were no scientific explanations. Psychologically, it could be explained, but her uncle's actions in the aftermath of her experience made her think otherwise. Thomas seemed to know something, but didn't seem to want to say anything.

The doorbell rang. Susan's eyes narrowed. Maybe now was the time to ask questions.

* * *

"Dear, no, it's not like that," Sirius sighed, looking at the young Asian female face in the green fire. "Of course I'll visit you. And yes, your mom as well. No, Harry won't be coming… yes, apparently, he hates you too."

"But why can't you visit now?" the teenager complained.

"I'm just helping Harry with this job, and then I'll be free," Sirius replied honestly.

"Harry this, Harry that!" she growled.

"Now, dear, don't be like that," Sirius sighed. "One job… and I'll visit. Wizard's Oath."

"You better, _otou-san_…" she replied, pouting before she cut off her connection of the Floo.

The man sighed as he too cut himself of the Floo network. Sliding down the bed, he looked at the ceiling of the room they had rented in the Leaky cauldron for a moment before he sighed and stood up, exiting the room, and moved the room beside it. He knocked once, and opened the door, and entered.

Harry Potter was sitting at the floor in the center of the room, sitting crossed-legged, his eyes closed.

"You really ought to lock your doors," Sirius said.

"Hush," Harry muttered softly, his eyes still closed and his body still. For a moment, the two were silent, until the boy spoke up once more. "Okay, again. Who is this Hagrid?"

"Rubeus Hagrid," Sirius repeated. He had been saying this thrice already. "Gamekeeper and the Keeper of Keys of Hogwarts. Half-giant. Very mellow, though with the giant blood, that could change on his temper."

"Do you like him?" Harry asked. The question was new… for Sirius, it meant Harry had finally formulated a plan.

"Decent man. He wasn't very close to the Marauders, but he's a good man," Sirius stare turned a bit hard, even though Harry couldn't see it. "I prefer you wouldn't damage him permanently."

"No worries," Harry opened his eyes. "I doubt we could take him down with just the two of us. Giant blood will protect him from stunners, and also makes him quite immune to tranquilizers, even the strongest ones. I doubt you could beat him to submission as well. This will be more of guile than force."

"Well, I trust you, Harry," Sirius shrugged. "I'm ready anytime."

"Good," the boy nodded. "By the way, how's Amy?"

"She still hates you."

Harry couldn't help but grin. "That's good."

* * *

"I'm… I'm really a witch?" Susan asked.

"Yes," Thomas sighed. He had been expecting this since she made her toys float five. "You're mother and father were both witch and wizard as well. Remember the time you were five?"

She nodded.

"That was accidental magic, or that's at least what Amelia says."

"Aunty Amelia?" Susan blinked. "I thought she was an officer of the Ministry of Defence?"

"Sorry, pumpkin," Thomas grinned. "She's also a witch. Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to be exact."

"Oh…" Susan deflated the angry outburst welling from her. She felt a bit betrayed that the aunt she kept writing to had lied to her all these years, though hearing that she was someone who upheld the law did put an ease on her temper. Then, her mind suddenly began asking questions.

"Look, if I'm a witch, why am I here?" Susan asked. "Why haven't I been told about this? Why am I only finding it out now?"

"You tell me pumpkin," Thomas began, smiling slightly. "Why would we hide your heritage from you?"

The question was innocent, but like Thomas' questions to Susan was in the same tone he had every time they went down to review his old case files. Her mind began going on conjectures. Some were too silly to even be mentioned, while others were more noteworthy.

"You hid things from me… because I was not supposed to know until a certain time, yes?"

Thomas just urged her to go on, his smile widening.

"If I was not supposed to know, living quietly…" her eyes widened. "I was being hidden?"

"Good show," Thomas grinned. "Now, why would we hide you?"

"Something to do with my parents?" Susan asked, only to receive a nod. "Were they criminals?"

Thomas shook his head.

"Do they owe anyone a large sum of money?"

Another shake of the head.

Susan took a deep breathe. "Is… is it related to their deaths?"

"I'm afraid so," Thomas nodded.

"Whoever killed them… would come after me?"

"In a way," Thomas sighed. "Susan… please listen, and don't interrupt me, okay? Ten years ago, the whole Wizarding community was in shambles. A very dark Witch was terrorizing everyone. She killed your parents… and also gave you that scar."

Susan touched her lightning-bolt shaped scar in her forehead unconsciously. For some reason, her stomach turned as her uncle continued with the story.

Part of her found the whole story suspect. Her mother and father were Aurors, a Wizarding equivalent of a police officer and soldier, apparently, and this dark Witch Beryl, whom fashioned herself as a self-styled Death Queen, had come after their family. She had easily killed both her parents, but for some reason, when she faced Susan, she had disappeared without a trace, leaving only a lightning-bolt scar on the baby Susan's forehead.

Amelia and Thomas had both agreed in hiding her, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts suggested a hideaway in the Muggle world, which proved to be quite a fruitful suggestion. Thomas, who really was an Unspeakable, went deep undercover as a muggle detective in the quaint and small town of Hampershire, just a few outskirts of London, and had been taking care of Susan ever since.

Susan had questions now. Her uncle hadn't been much forthcoming to her nature, partly because he wanted to keep her safe… but no more. Putting Susan back on the Wizarding world without any information would just send her to the wolves. He answered her questions about the family line, both her maternal and paternal, and things a regular Wizard or Witch should know.

In the end, the conversation fell back to Susan's Hogwarts letter.

"Can we really buy all of these in London?" she asked.

"If you know where to go," Thomas nodded.

"Will you take me there then?"

Thomas frowned. "Sorry, pumpkin… but I can't leave my post yet. Tell you what… I'll introduce you to someone. He can tell you much more about the current events of the Wizarding world, and even about Hogwarts."

Perhaps it was time to retire his cover, Thomas thought. He'd be in a long haul when he's back at the Department of Mysteries for debriefing. It had been ten long years, after all.

* * *

Days passed. Sirius hated waiting. He was a man of action, so when Harry announced his plan was to stay in the Leaky Cauldron for the week, he knew he was in for the long haul. It also didn't help the fact that ninety percent of the witches in the establishment were all taken. He half-wished Harry was older so they could go to the Charming Jinx. He heard good things on the dancers there, even a metamorphmagus, if the rumours were true.

He must have said his plan aloud because Harry suddenly declared, "Sirius, you already gotten a Japanese witch pregnant because of your indiscretion. You really have to control yourself."

Sirius just grinned sheepishly, though he still put an unabashed front. "The old dog needs some good ol' snuffling. You'll understand when you're fourteen."

Harry just rolled his eyes. He doubted that. The whole mating ritual was just a result of hormones and an evolutionary urge to procreate and ensure the survival of the species. He knew he had no time for either. There were things to plan, gold to be obtained… like now.

Looking outside the window of their room, overlooking Diagon Alley, he watched the crowd bustle along, mostly kids of his age. They were most likely trying to buy their school things. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions were full, along with Flourish and Botts, the bookstore.

Then, he saw him. A tall beefy man emerge along the street of Diagon Alley, accompanied by a girl.

"Got him," Harry declared. "Hmm… definitely Giant blood on him. Kindly face. Who is the girl he's with?"

She looked very lost, in Harry's opinion. That indicated she might be a muggleborn witch. Her eye had a wandering gaze, but in its curiosity was mixed with determination. What worried him though was the crowd seemingly gathering around them. Sure, it was strange to see a big man like that in the Wizarding World, but the fact the people pointed at the girl, it wasn't this Hagrid person that was taking their attention.

"Well, I'll be a Veela's lover," Sirius whistled. "It's Susan Bones, the Girl-Who-Lived."

Had Harry been older, he would have sworn.

"What in the world is she doing here? And with him?"

"Don't know," Sirius replied. "Rumour has it she was raised off the grid… probably by muggles."

Raised by muggles? That would make sense, Harry thought as he watched her look around with curious gaze. She definitely looked like a muggle-born witch, gasping at new sites as if the world was her oyster. Moreover, tactically, it would make sense to hide her in the muggle world, especially with She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers were still around.

Not that it any of those tidbits would help Harry in anyway. He could only sigh heavily.

"Okay, so, he's here. Now what?" Sirius asked.

"Nothing. Plan failed," Harry muttered darkly as he went towards his trunk and began packing all of his things in.

Sirius looked confused. "What do you mean nothing, Harry?"

"The plan is gone. It hinged on the fact that the Gamekeeper would be alone, not have a celebrity at his side," Harry answered calmly, though Sirius detected a little bitterness in his voice. "Bloody Girl-Who-Lived…"

The man snorted. Harry had whispered the last sentence, as he rarely cursed. He always loved to act aloof and emotionless, but it were times like these where Sirius enjoyed being the boy's godfather. Plan a heist at Gringotts, or take on a dragon cave? Awesome. Seeing Harry act like a normal kid? Priceless.

"So, that's it?" Sirius asked. "No more going after the Philosopher's Stone?"

The boy was about to say yes, when an electrical current nibbled through his cranium. Like clockwork, his mind then began formulating new ideas and finally a new plan. It was shaky at best, and quite disastrous if anything went wrong, but this was the best way to get the Stone.

Sirius watched as Harry went through the motions. Unknown to the boy, his gaze lowered itself to the carpeted floor, and he began to pace, muttering, whispering amongst himself. Then, at a snap of a finger, Harry left his own daze, looking at his godfather.

"A new plan then?" the man asked.

"Quite. Its time to pull the most daring heist in the history of the Magical World," Harry seemed to smile. "Tell me you didn't listen to me, and kept my acceptance letter to Hogwarts."

It took a while before Sirius realized what the question meant. When he realized it, he couldn't stop grinning.

* * *

_fromthefilesofharryjamespotter-thephilosophersstoneisoneofthehardestitemsihavetriedtosteal_

* * *

_Author's Notes: _

_I took a stab at writing a Harry Potter flick. Any HP fans who want to know, I specialize in heavy AU stuff. If you don't like it, I can redirect you to many other well written and interesting HP fanfiction you may like better. Feedback's good. Thank you. _

_I have finally decided on the direction of the fic. I also added something fun (and a bit too easy if anyone got the right nudge). Hopefully this will bring a really good jump of quality for the fic which I found myself direction-less. _


	2. Chapter 2

The fireplace of Number 12 Grimmauld Place burst to life with green flames, and Sirius emerged, followed by a stumbling Harry, whom if he could would convince anyone, he did so quite gracefully. Sirius was the only one around, and was not convinced. He even seemed to find his godson's little entrance to be a bit endearing.

"If you had enough comedy at my expense, Sirius, I suggest we better get this on quickly," Harry muttered.

"Right-o," Sirius grinned, mocked a salute and left towards the stairs.

Harry sighed. After a moment, he walked towards the living room, passing by a corridor. There was a large blackened portrait on one end. It used to house the portrait of Walburga Black, Sirius's mother. Not quite a dignified woman, in Harry's opinion, an opinion that is shared by his godfather. She did nothing more than shout curse words at them, which Harry had learned at a very young age, much to Sirius's dismay.

Three year old kids shouldn't curse like sailors.

Sirius Black then made it his personal mission to remove the portrait from its place. The permanent sticking charm on the portrait made it impossible to move, so in the end, Sirius burnt the portrait. Repeatedly. The only House Elf of the house, Kreacher, who wasn't particularly nice to both of them, committed suicide out of shock that his 'true' mistress's face transfigured into an unrecognizable color similar to coal.

As for the boy who cursed when he was three, Sirius was, thankfully, able to correct Harry, explaining that straight on expletives lowered your standing as a citizen. It is much better and much more fun to curse with 'polite' words after all.

The Black family had to live to its particularly ominous name. Either by being a zealous follower of the Dark Arts like most of the family, or be a complete prankster like Sirius.

The living room was Harry's, as far as anyone was concerned. He adopted it as his own living quarters. His books were scattered around, and the computer prototype he had painstakingly built was still on, running diagnostics. The web browser was still on, mostly on Nicolas Flamel. While the muggles at a whole do not know about the Wizard World, it was stupid to assume that Wizards think their little world wasn't touched by anything remotely of muggles.

Witches and Wizards from muggle families have grown quite in numbers. They weren't also ignorant in how the Internet works, and began to make community-based websites on all their learning's in the magical community. Muggles believe such sites were role-playing sites, make-believe. Purebloods don't even know their world is actually somewhat exposed.

The muggleborns will inherit the world, Harry thought as he began to close the browsers one by one. Of course, if he gets his way, he could give the purebloods a fighting chance, depending how stubborn they are though.

"Oi, Harry, where are you?" Sirius's voice called from the hallway.

"Living room," Harry replied.

Sirius appeared with the Hogwarts letter, still sealed with red wax, and over that, Hogwart's Seal. Handing it over to Harry, the man then looked towards the computer as Harry began to tear his envelope open.

"Still playing with your Corn Pewter?"

"Computer," Harry corrected, not even looking up from his work. "And no. Just closing a few programs. We know where the Stone is, so no need to research Flamel."

"Right," Sirius replied, a lie. When his godson mumbles anything about muggle toys, it was better to reply that way. Harry had a habit of turning to a completely annoying know-it-all if Sirius replied with anything else.

Finally opening his letter, he skipped the first page (which was just a formal greeting) and read the part telling him what he had needed to bring. Some were pretty much bought and done, like Harry's wand for example, which he had tailor made for himself by a Wandcrafter, and most of the books were in the Black family library, still in good condition. Harry never had to worry about having his books outdated. Muggle books take ten years to update it to current events. Wizard books take even longer.

The only thing he would need then was a few cloaks.

"Let's reply to the Deputy Headmistress," Harry began, "and then we go to Diagon Alley for some school cloaks."

Sirius just smiled. He began to fake a few tears. "My little godson, James little Pronglet is going to Hogwarts. After all the tantrums of not wanting to attend, it's finally here!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Aren't you glad, my esteemed godfather, that you can now visit your daughter since you can't just dote on me anymore?"

There was something elementary funny in seeing a grown man's left foot sliding, over a carpeted floor no less, almost completely making him slip and fall to his backside. Sirius was lucky he was able to grab the edge of the table. He would have embarrassed himself further.

"Wha," the man sputtered, "don't be silly, Harry! We're on a job. I told her I'd visit after our business is concluded."

"You may as well visit her," Harry replied easily. "After all, I don't have a definite plan on how to take the Stone from Hogwarts. I have a whole year to plan it, and I seriously doubt I could come up with one in just a few months. In fact, I personally will write to her as soon as I get on the Hogwarts Express and tell her you are free."

"You wouldn't," Sirius declared, only to spot Harry's dangerous little smile. He conceded. "You would."

He sighed.

"Cheer up, Sirius," Harry declared as he moved towards the hallway, to the fireplace. "Better you than me."

"Sure, whatever, Harry," the man muttered, planning a little payback when this was all said and done. He then finally smiled as a thought entered him. "Well, it's Japan… best pace to have some good ol' snuffling."

"Too much information, Sirius," Harry declared, dead-pan.

* * *

**Bones Residence, Hampershire**

It was first of September. Quite an exciting day for Susan as this was the day school term started. Odd, having such reaction for a young child, if one could say. However, there is a reason why Susan was excited in going to this particular school.

Just a few weeks ago, she had learned something rather fantastical. She was a Witch. Not just any ordinary Witch, but the celebrated Girl-Who-Lived.

Silly name, yes, but apparently, the people couldn't get enough of it. Yesterday, that was proven when she, along with one Rubeus Hagrid, a gigantic and kind man, went to Diagon Alley, a hidden magical little part of London. It is there where they bought most of her school things, and discussed more about the Wizarding World.

Hagrid, as the man allowed Susan to call him, worked at Hogwarts. Oh, he had so many things to say to her about the school. Many praises for Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of the School, and with Susan's inquisitive nature, not only had she gotten some tidbits about Hogwarts (like the Four Houses, and their histories), but also a little bit about the gigantic man.

There was one thing though that Hagrid had been very privy about. When they were in Gringotts, the Wizard Bank, Hagrid had shown coached her on how to withdraw. Showing the key Thomas had given her earlier that day, she was put in a rather wickedly fast cart towards her own personal vault, number 777.

Her parents left her quite a bit of money, and if what Thomas said was true, that wasn't all of it.

Next was Hagrid's trip, in his own words, to acquire the 'you-know-what in vault you-know-where'. Not much subtly, and Susan had to groan a bit at that. It was rude, she knew it, but couldn't help but be curious to see what was in vault 713. The vault door was enormous, and according to Griphook, the Goblin who drove the cart and assisted them, the vault had a high security detail. Yet what Hagrid took was a small-clothed bag, which he immediately put in one of his enormous pockets.

He entertained no question about that particular item, but was very generous on the other things. He helped her with her books, and even with the picking of her wand.

Susan flipped the stick between her fingers, her eyes slightly mesmerized by it. Ollivander, the owner of the Wand Shop, described it as 'nice and supple'. Eleven inches of holly, and in its core, a phoenix feather. The man had expressed curiosity, and when Susan had asked for him to clarify, proceeded to tell her that her wand shared the same core as the Dark Queen's own wand.

Susan shivered, though promptly put that at the back of her mind. It would do no good to psyche herself out at this day. She was about to taker her first step as a legitimate Witch in the magical world, and no, the trip to Diagon Alley didn't count. She quickly exited her room, knocked hard on her uncle's door, and went down the stairs, towards the kitchen.

As she prepared breakfast, listening to her uncle groan on how early it was, she only smiled. There was no way she was going to be late today.

* * *

**King's Cross**

Thomas yawned rather loudly as he walked beside the rather excitable Susan, who seemed to hum. She had reverted back to a kid… not that it was wrong. He had always seen her so serious and maybe just seeing her act as if she was of her age was a bit disconcerting. Thomas just said nothing, just smiled at her supportively.

Or tried at least.

"I need more coffee," Thomas muttered as he rubbed his eyes.

Susan just rolled her eyes.

King's Cross station was full of people. Mostly muggles minding their own business, though some were staring at a few people who walked in robes, their kids talking about Quidditch (which Susan learned from Hagrid and her uncle is quite a famous sport played in the Wizarding World). Thomas just sighed, though unperturbed.

"You'd think keeping the Masquerade would take priority," he muttered. "In the old days, I'd have waved my wand and start Obliviating people…"

Spotting his niece looking at him oddly, Thomas explained, "Obliviate is a spell which erases a target's memory. It is the bread-and-butter spell for Unspeakables like me, as we were called in for containment in case a muggle gets a wee bit too close in discovering the Wizarding World."

"So there will be those Unspeakables here to erase memories?" Susan asked.

"Not really. Look at the muggles," Thomas pointed out at the people staring at the poorly-disguised Wizards. "Perhaps it has been going too long, but they are mostly used to it. Rumor has it that they are convinced that it was a joke played annually at September First, where cross dressers come out and play, with owls, rats and odd cats."

Susan looked a bit sheepish, and continued on her way. When she reached a column that had two signs on its side naming platforms nine and ten, she and her uncle met with a rather large family of red-heads. Identical twins were talking to their mother, a pleasantly plump woman.

"Fred, you next," she stated.

"Its George," one of the twins declared. "Honestly woman, can't you tell that I'm George-"

"And that I'm Fred?" finished the other.

"Sorry, George dear."

The twins smirked, and the first one, who called himself George, just declared, "Only kidding. I am Fred!"

The boy then rushed forward with his cart, and to Susan's amazement, passed through the column wall between Platforms Nine and Ten. He also began to cheekily called his brother to hurry up.

"Wow…" Susan commented.

"Quite an intricate work," Thomas began. "You'll notice none of the muggles are even looking when someone crosses the barrier. That's because the whole area is covered by a rather large 'notice-me-not' rune lines running across this place."

"When do I learn that?" Susan asked.

Thomas chuckled. "Sorry, pumpkin. 'Ancient Runes' is an optional subject you can take during the Third Year, and even then, you won't be learning anything this complicated."

Susan pouted, though she smiled as she settled herself beside a red-headed boy of her age, probably the young brother of the twins. He is somewhat tall for his age, thin too, his face with freckles and a somewhat long nose. He looked a bit skittish, nervous. She couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him.

"Hey," she greeted, friendlily.

The boy looked at her, and his face flushed a bit, the red color reaching his ears. "Um… hey," he greeted back, if a bit lamely.

"You okay?"

"Quite," he replied, calming down.

"I'll go first, then, if you don't mind."

"Sure," the boy nodded.

Thomas, who was behind them, said, "Go for a run. Easier on the nerves."

"Got it…" and Susan made a run for it, disappearing as her cart hit the brick column.

"Now, Ron," the plump woman began to dote on her youngest, who looked slightly annoyed. "Wait a minute before going in as well. Give her a moment to give you space."

"Yes, mum," Ron sighed, and after a few seconds later, he too took a running start.

Thomas smiled towards the plump woman. He knew who she was. Molly Weasley. It was unmistakable; all her children had red hair, a signature family feature of all Weasley's. A good family.

"His first day, eh?" Thomas asked politely.

"He won't be the last too," Molly returned the smile, and patted on the young girl who situated herself beside her mother, very shy. "Next year, it'll be my little Ginny's turn. Oh, excuse me. Molly Weasley, mister…?"

"Thomas Bones," Thomas replied, extending his hand, which Molly shook immediately.

"Bones," Molly looked thoughtful. Her eyes widened when she realized it. "Then that girl…"

"Yes, my little Susan," Thomas nodded.

"Goodness. Susan Bones has returned," Molly whispered, noticing the crowd of Wizards gathering around. Some had recognized the girl. Others just arrived with their kids.

"Oh mom," the little girl, Ginny, suddenly looked a bit excited. "Can we see her? Please?"

"Ginny! She's not someone to ogle at."

Thomas chuckled, but whatever comment he was about to say was muted when two figures appeared beside them. One was a young boy with a pale complexion, and messy raven hair. He wore rectangular wire-thin spectacles, and behind those were very cold green eyes. Beside him was a handsome man with a well-defined face, his hair done on a ponytail. The boy wore a dark and expensive looking suit, while the man wore leather-clad clothing.

Whispers broke out.

"Is that Black…? Then the boy's…"

"Potter…"

Molly pulled Ginny closer to her, her face unreadable. There was a hushed silence amongst the crowd. The boy only looked around, spotting the crowd staring at him. Others glaring. His face didn't change one bit.

* * *

Harry sighed behind the plastic visor of the helmet that he was forced to wear. Times like these allowed Harry to work his brain, but unfortunately, riding at the carriage beside a roaring bike didn't exactly help the boy in his thinking process, so he decided to just sit on his thoughts until he was on the train.

He knew the only real way he could break into Hogwarts without causing any commotion was to attend as a student. He wasn't completely sure about going to Hogwarts though. Even if he was inside, the odds of him getting the Stone without being caught were at least forty percent, and those were optimistic figures right there.

Sirius was driving his motorcycle. He was singing something, probably the song he was listening from his iPod, which Harry had modified to work with magical surroundings, like his computer. The iPod was filled with songs from muggle bands. Witch and Wizard bands don't exactly record their songs electronically, though Sirius didn't mind. He always told Harry that his mother was very knowledgeable about music, and introduced Sirius to a few bands.

"Did you know there's a song with my name in it?" Sirius had asked Harry, smiling.

Harry sighed again as the man was speeding up. I don't care if you listen to Highway to Hell, Harry thought darkly. There are stop signs and speed limits, so follow them.

Finally, they arrived at King's Cross. Sirius parked his bike, and Harry stumbled out of his carriage, removing his helmet while he was at it. He then began to straighten his dark suit, his favorite clothing. It is functional because muggles won't even look twice while one wore them, and it is something wizards wore. The rich ones at least. Plus, they were very comfortable.

Of course, a boy in a suit climbing down from a carriage beside a motorcycle looks out of place. Sirius didn't help, as he was wearing a full biker ensemble: leather jacket, leather pants, and all of them had metal spikes in specific places. Of course, no one thought about it too much. Any muggles looking were mostly females, and they were winking and giving Sirius a few seductive looks, while ignoring Harry.

Thankfully, Sirius was a great distraction. While they were looking at him, Harry worked on taking down his trunk. The carriage had been modified magically, and it had bigger space than it actually looked. The trunk itself was charmed to be lighter as well. If anyone had been looking, they would spot an eleven-year old kid pulling a trunk as big as he was from a carriage that was almost as small as he was.

Sirius then got a trolley, and loaded the trunk on it, making a somewhat macho show for the women still looking at him. He was so concentrated on impressing more women that he didn't notice Harry going on without him. And when he did, Harry was already in the entrance of the train station.

"Done parading around?" Harry asked when the man caught up to him.

"A little harmless fun," Sirius replied evasively.

"You can tell that to your daughter."

"That's below the belt."

As they arrived at the walkway between Platforms Nine and Ten, Harry began to notice a few eyes on them. There was a whisper amongst the crowd, though their words were pretty clear.

"Is that Black…? Then the boy's…"

"Potter…"

He stared at them, his eyes never wavering, his face unchanged. He knew this reaction. It was what he got when he was out in public. It hurt him a lot before, but now, no more. He was older, and he had better things to accomplish. Gripping his trolley handle harder, he passed by a plump woman with a young red-headed girl, who looked at him in a confused manner. Beside the woman was a confused looking man. He just stole a glance at Harry.

Ignoring them, he just waltzed towards the barrier wall, opting for a walk rather than a quick dash, and just let the magic wash over him as he found himself into Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, revealing a scarlet steam engine, warmed up and ready to go.

It was the Hogwarts Express.

"Oi, Harry."

Harry looked back, and saw Sirius walking towards him. The man then gave the young boy a gruff hug.

"Sirius," Harry complained. "People will be staring."

"Embarrassed?" the man asked with a chuckle.

"No… but if you're close to me, people will start talking," the boy whispered.

"Let them," Sirius replied with a gruff growl. "Look, Harry, forget the Stone. Go to school. Make some friends."

"I can't do that," Harry whispered with a hint of hate in his voice. "Do you regret sticking with me Sirius?"

"Don't be silly, Harry. What would you do without me?"

"I can think of lots of things…" Harry replied easily, smiling slightly. "Just be ready. Hopefully in a few months, I'll have all the information I need to carry out the heist."

Sirius let go of the boy, and nodded. "Need help with the trunk, or finding an empty compartment?"

"No," Harry replied.

Sirius ignored that, and began to scatter the kids in the carriage, looking for an empty compartment. When he found one, he put the trunk in the empty corner, and gave Harry another gruff hug.

"Take care of yourself, Pronglet. And if you're not in Gryffindor, at least be at Ravenclaw. Hell, I'll take Hufflepuff. I'll disown you if you're sorted to Slytherin," Sirius declared.

"Really Sirius?"

"I'm really serious!"

The pun wasn't lost on Harry, who just rolled his eyes. The man continued to look stern, though his grin threatening to appear destroyed his expression. Sirius let himself out, giving one last serious look at Harry by means of popping his head back into view before completely disappearing. Harry just sighed, closed the compartment door, and sat down on the seat, looking out the window.

He saw her again. The Girl-Who-Lived, this time hugging an older gent, probably his guardian. He never got a really good look at her back in Diagon Alley, but now, he could see her features clearly. She had brown hair, almost red if one looked at it in an angle with the sun behind it. She had a sharp face, and inquisitive brown eyes.

She was currently talking with a red-headed boy, and older twins. Judging by their reddish hair, he concluded that they were the Weasley family. Their mother, the plump woman whom he passed by earlier with her daughter, also appeared, telling the young red-head something, and proceeded to wipe his nose with a handkerchief.

Embarrassing. The Girl-Who-Lived though just watched everything with a slight smile, non-judgmental look obvious in her face. Another Weasley appeared, older than the twins, puffing his chest out to show he had a golden badge on his robes. He then looked Susan, his face in some awe.

The old gent then hugged her, and waved goodbye as he passed through the barrier once more, disappearing without a trace. She was left there, standing, looking at the barrier, probably with a frown on her face, some sorrow. It is a normal thing to feel somewhat lonely separating yourself from your guardian, especially at her age.

Suddenly, she turned and looked directly at Harry, her eyes narrowing. Harry didn't react, and just returned her stare whilst keeping his face neutral. He then began to look at her with a critical eye, judging how she moved her face, maybe subtle facial twitches. The Weasleys then seemed to mention something, and her face reacted in surprise, and suddenly, suspicion.

Harry pulled the blinds down, and kept it down the whole trip to Hogsmeade.

* * *

Well, this is embarrassing, Susan thought with a slight smile as the plump woman had grabbed his youngest son, who introduced himself earlier as Ron Weasley, and began to wipe his nose with a handkerchief.

"Mom, geroff!"

"Ah, has ickle Ronnie got somfink in his nose?" one of the twins, who came behind Susan, asked. He then smiled at Susan's presence. "Hey Bones."

"Hey," Susan greeted, smiling. The twins had helped her earlier in loading her trunk towards a compartment earlier. The boy joined her after a while, but got off to give his last goodbyes to his mum.

"Wow… it's really her!" the young girl beside the matriarch Weasley declared.

"Hush, Ginny," the plump woman gently admonished her daughter. "Has anyone seen Percy?"

"Probably on the Prefect's compartment… speaking of the devil, here he comes now," Fred (or was it George) replied.

Susan then spotted another Weasley. He was older than the twins were, and was striding towards them with an apparent air of dignity, with his chest puffing out. She never said it, but it made him look like an arrogant prat. He was obviously showing off a badge pinned on his robes. Susan shivered slightly… she had hoped this person wouldn't join the Police Force… until he toned it down, at least.

"I can't stay long mother. I am up front, with the prefects. We have two compartments to ourselves…" the boy, Percy, began.

"Oh come on, Percy," George (or was it Fred) began. "Can't you say goodbye to our good ol' mum? Don't be a prat. Even the great Bones here is accompanying ickle Ronniekins as he says goodbye."

Percy looked at him severely before looking towards Susan. His eyes widened. "You're Bones?"

"Yup," Susan replied easily. "Though don't listen. I'm out here to say goodbye to my uncle."

"Well, nice to meet you," Percy declared, though his facial expression stated he was at awe at her presence. He then looked at Thomas. "And you are, sir?"

"Thomas Bones," Thomas replied easily. He looked at his watch, and suddenly frowned. "Sorry pumpkin, I have to go. I'll owl you later. We have things to discuss."

"I'll miss you, uncle," the girl stated sadly, and accepted the hug from the man.

"Me too. Try not to cause too much trouble," he said with a grin, and separated himself from her. He then waved at her as he exited the barrier.

Susan waved back, until she felt an electric wave pass over the back of her neck. On instinct, she turned around, and saw a young pale boy with messy raven hair staring back at her. His green eyes were neutral, though she knew it was looking at her, studying her. She scowled slightly, narrowing her eyes. She didn't like the look the boy was giving her. Others just looked at her with awe. He looked at her as if he was examining his prey.

She wasn't the only one looking at the window though. All the other Weasleys and her uncle were as well.

"Hey mum… isn't that…" Ron began.

"It's Potter," Molly declared neutrally. The boys then stiffened when they heard the name, and tried to avoid looking.

Ron then looked a bit angry, his face suddenly turning red. It wasn't embarrassment this time.

"Potter…" he almost spat the word.

"Who is he?" Susan asked.

Ron looked at her with some amazement before he remembered that she was raised in the muggle world. "Harry James Potter… he killed his parents."

Susan blinked. "What?"

"His parents were Aurors, who got injured when You-Know-Who's followers attacked them at their place. They got injured so badly they had to be hospitalized in St. Mungo's for years," Fred whispered, not looking at the window. "When he was eight, he got a solicitor to give him authority to stop his parent's treatments. They died without magical support."

"And he got the whole Potter fortune in return," George finished.

Susan's face hardened, and stared back at the Potter boy with more force. He just stared back at her coolly, and then lowered the blinds, hiding him from view.

"Boys, keep away from Potter now, you hear?" Molly began. "Your father has heard some nasty rumors about him."

"No worries mum," George declared.

"Though seriously… what can an eleven year old do?" Fred whispered softly, so Molly wouldn't hear.

Susan heard it though, and even though she herself was an eleven year old, she thought: What could an eleven-year-old boy do?

A lot, apparently she would learn.

* * *

_Author's Notes: _

_Set up some of Harry's background there, and some of Susan's. The next few chapters will focus more on Harry. Susan's run as the GWL will parallel Harry's at canon, though just a few changes, which I will hopefully be able to highlight. Anyways, thanks for the reviews. I'll continue the next chapter after I write out Atelier Uzumaki and Sin Eater. . People are waiting for those for a month now. _


	3. Chapter 3

Harry rubbed his chin, reading the letter he had written just a few moments ago.

* * *

_Dear __Amy Mitsuko Black_

_How are you? Fine I hope. If you are reading this, then no doubt you have controlled your childish temper for a moment before ripping this letter apart. Maybe you're curious, or maybe you are having trouble with a translation spell to make this readable to you. _

_You are learning how to read and write in English, I assume? _

_Before you are tempted to rip this letter (if you haven't already), then stay that hand, my fiery Godfather's daughter. Listen to your wiser and superior: _

_Your father is free. _

_It has been what, a year since he last visited? I have told him to write to you, bring news to your newfound good fortune, and threatened him I'd be writing you first if he doesn't, and send it via Owl while I'm travelling to my new location. If he hasn't written to you before you received this letter, then I am assuming he caught on my bluff as I am not travelling with my own owl. _

_You are welcome. _

_By the way, still having trouble with your magic? I am not that very well versed in Eastern practices, but if you need a teacher, you may need to look farther away. _

_**Harry James Potter**_

* * *

He counted how many insults, veiled or otherwise, he was able to put in. Not as much as he wanted, but considering he wanted the letter to be read, he couldn't overdo it. He also couldn't do without it. Harry found it ironic that as immature as it seemed, if he hadn't at least put a few insults, he knew Amy would think something is wrong, and most likely not take this letter as seriously as she should.

Moreover, it's therapeutic. Amy was one of the few people he can act as juvenile as he wanted to. Though, as shadows loomed at the drawn shade, if he were correct, the place he was about to spend a year in had enough potential candidates he could shed some juvenile and academic tongue lashing.

Satisfied with his letter, Harry covered his ballpoint tip pen with its metallic cover, and placed it on his inner-left jacket pocket. He folded his paper thrice, and then inserted the letter on his inner-right jacket pocket and reminded himself to send the letter as soon as possible.

Only then did Harry relax, spreading his fingers over the felt material of the seat. The compartment was empty, something he found as a comfort. He was never good with children of his age, and he mostly worked well with older people – or at least those who didn't look at him with suspicion.

There was a knock on the door, and a matronly woman slid it open slightly, smiling with a professional smile.

"Need something of the trolley, dear?" she asked.

He stole a glance towards the cart the woman was pushing, selling sweets and the likes. He gave her a polite shake of his head, and she went on her way, sliding the door shut. Harry relaxed.

The light outside was fading fast. He estimated maybe an hour or so before they arrived at Hogsmeade. He went to a corner of his compartment, and lifted his trunk towards the empty seat opposite of him. Harry began to scrounge up his belongings, and found the cloak he had tailored, folded neatly. He took that out, and spread it on the unoccupied seat, straightening it out.

There was a knock before the door slid open again.

"Excuse me," a girl said, entering.

For a moment, Harry got an impression of a beaver. It wasn't that the girl was ugly by any means, but her hair was rather bushy, more frizzy than curly. She had a mousy face, and her cheeks a bit filled. Her eyes were almond brown and they were bright and curious. He could see the intelligence behind them, but also, he smiled slightly, naivety. She wore a cloak, somewhat quite worn, probably had been wearing it for the past hour or so. It commented much on her enthusiasm.

"Yes?" Harry replied neutrally.

"Have you seen a toad?" the girl asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, sorry. No toads here."

She frowned. "Ah… well, if you…"

"I will keep a look-out," Harry nodded.

"Thank you," she nodded and smiled.

A boy appeared behind her. He was of the same age range, had a healthy build, and looked a bit nervous as he swept his head outward towards the corridor, apparently looking for something. He straightened then, and tapped on the girl's shoulder.

"Hermione?" he asked.

"No not here as well," the girl replied.

"Ah. Well, there are more carriages to look-" He stopped as he spotted Harry in the compartment. His head tilted to his side, confused, recalling. Then, it narrowed, his grip on Hermione's shoulders tightening. "Let's go."

"Neville," she muttered, a bit pained. "What's wrong?"

"Let's just go," he replied, and practically forced the confused girl out. He then glared towards Harry, and slammed the door shut, strong enough to rattle the glass pane.

Harry stood there, his expression still. He could hear them outside, arguing.

"Neville, that hurt!"

"Sorry, but we can't stay in that compartment for long."

"Why?"

"That boy… I know him. He's… dangerous."

"Don't be silly."

"Trust me, he is…"

Their voice faded from the background, and it wasn't until the voices disappeared completely did Harry close his trunk, placed it back on its corner and settled down on his seat. He straightened a crease of his slacks, then rubbed the side of his head with his thumb and index finger

The door slid open. Harry blinked as another group entered the compartment. It was three boys this time. Front and centre was a blonde boy, his complexion almost as pale as Harry was. He had an arrogant expression; his lips lifted giving him a perpetual sneer.

On the left was, what Harry could only describe, a slab of meat and muscle for a boy of their age. He was overdoing (in Harry's opinion) a menacing face, his huge fists closed as if ready to launch them in all directions.

On the right, another huge boy, this time consisting of fat, wore a less severe, but nonetheless, threatening expression. His large arms crossed his chest, and Harry could see what looked like confectioner's sugar powdered slightly over his mouth and shoulders.

"Yes?" Harry asked. His tone was neutral, almost polite to anyone who knew him.

"Is she here?" the blonde asked.

"Who?"

"Bones."

Harry's eyebrow rose a bit. "No."

"Oh…" and the blonde boy looked like he was about to leave when he looked at Harry. His head tilted slightly to the right, his expression now sporting recognition.

Harry clenched his right hand slightly. "Yes?"

"Draco Malfoy," the blonde said. He then pointed towards the chubby one. "That's Crabbe." And then pointed towards the muscled boy. "And that's Goyle."

"Harry James Potter."

"Ah. I knew I recognized you. I've heard about you… from my father," Malfoy said. "He said you are the only Potter who's smart. What you did to your parents… that was quite cold and calculating. A lot of these idiots wouldn't understand you, and even take it up against you."

Harry said nothing.

"Personally, I think it's surprising considering that your dad married your mother."

"Which implies what, exactly?" Harry said, his tone going cold.

Malfoy continued as he hadn't noticed. "Your mother was a mud blood, was she not? Well, at least your father didn't marry a muggle."

"Yes… quite."

"Well, see you around Potter." And they left, simply, sliding the door shut after them.

Harry took a moment to realize he was still clenching his fist. He relaxed it, letting his fingers stretch as he felt for his wand hidden in the sleeve of his right arm. Then, he finally settled down back to the chair.

He couldn't help but snort. Sirius expected him to make friends? Granted, if Harry tried, the only ones who are willing to give him a chance and honestly befriend him would be muggle-born witches and wizards - provided they wouldn't be swayed by the more… biased magical community.

Then there was Draco Malfoy, heir of the Malfoy family. He was like any of the long-line generations of wizards and witches – arrogant, racist, and rich and trained under the dogma of pureblood fanaticism. And of course, easily manipulated.

The train now began to slow, indicating they were close. His scheming mind paused. He could plan the manipulation of the upcoming Malfoy heir after he was done with this heist. He crossed towards the opposite seat and unfolded his cloak. He wore it over his suit and took a deep breathe.

"Here we go…" he whispered to himself.

* * *

**Another Compartment**

Susan smiled as she watched Ron partake a few sweets she had bought with a few gold coins, absolutely dropping the packed corned beef sandwiches he had brought with him. The sweets cost a modest amount considering how much she had brought. She had deliberately withdrawn much money from her parents vault than her uncle deemed necessary so she could judge her expenditures for this year and extrapolate from that her average spending for the next school years.

Besides, she felt a bit sorry for Ron. The boy was from a poor, but loving family, and like most kids of his age, was less appreciative about it. But she understood him. She hated corned beef too.

"What are these?" she asked as she took a package out.

"Oh, Chocolate Frogs," Ron replied as he chewed on a liquorice wand. "Check the card."

"Card?"

"Oh yeah, right. Inside are cards of famous witches and wizards through history," he explained.

"Oh, like those baseball cards Americans collect," Susan said.

"Baseball?"

She smiled, finding a bit of irony in the conversation. "Oh yeah, right. Baseball is a sport played by Americans." She slipped the carton on one hand, finding an opening track with the other, and then whirled it around. She popped the carton up, revealing a very realistic looking frog, only made of chocolate.

She took a bite off its leg, she spotted a card underneath, showing a picture of a wizened old man with long silver-white hair and beard wearing a blue cloak and hat designed with stars and moon. He wore a half-moon spectacle that hung loosely over his crooked nose, and if Susan wasn't mistaken, his eyes sparkled. His name was underneath the picture.

**ALBUS DUMBLEDORE**

_Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts_

_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of twelve uses of dragon blood, and his work on Alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

"Albus Dumbledore," she read. She blinked. "Rather odd hobby…"

"I have a dozen of him," Ron stated, now opening another box of chocolate frogs. "I'm just looking for Agrippa to complete the set."

"Ah…" Susan nodded. She frowned. "The more I know the more I feel overwhelmed."

"Overwhelmed?"

She looked at the boy for a moment, wondering how she could say it on simpler terms. She was too used to talking with her uncle and other adults, as most kids her age, or even older ones tended to avoid her. She appreciated Ron Weasley's company, and she liked him. But she didn't know how to act around him without making him think any less of her. Then again, as her uncle said, one always starts at the beginning.

"I've just found out I'm a witch less than a month ago. A week ago, I just learned I'm not only a witch, but also a famous witch."

Ron's mouth twisted a little. Susan didn't know if it was a grimace or a pitying smile.

"I remember Hagrid brining me to the Leaky Cauldron…"

"Hagrid?"

Susan blinked, and then nodded. "Oh yeah. Big man. Said he works at Hogwarts… Keepers of the Keys I believe."

"Yeah, he's the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. My brothers talked about him," Ron replied. "Is he really… large?"

"Quite. And friendly too," Susan added, seeing some apprehension of the boy's face. "Anyway, he brought me there to enter Diagon Alley." The memory of the place was still fresh on her mind. Diagon Alley was a traditional-looking street filled with various magical shops. Most of her school stuff she bought from there and much more. She smiled slightly, remembering the goodness of Florean Fortescue's ice cream. "Do you know how weird it is to have people recognize you, and shake your hand?"

Ron looked pensive. "Weird?"

"Strangers all around you, talking like they know you. I'm sure they are all friendly people, but…" and she shook her head. "It's just… weird."

"Ah…"

They were silent for a moment, with Susan looking out the window, while Ron silently ate a few more of the sweets. Then, Susan looked thoughtful, and said, "I did meet a professor."

"Who?" Ron asked, happy for the distraction. The silence was a bit heavy.

"Quirrell," Susan frowned. "Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. He wanted to get a book about vampires." She smiled a bit. "Shaky man. Eyes twitchy, a pale demeanour, and had a turban that looked a bit too wrapped up around the head to be healthy."

Ron blinked. "Wow. That was… detailed. Was there something special about him?"

Susan nodded. "Oddly, he was the only one who didn't shake my hand."

He looked confused. "What?"

"I know, don't ask. My brain is weird, like that," she replied.

Before anyone else spoke, the door of their carriage door slid open, revealing a boy.

"Excuse me," he called. "Have you seen a toad around?"

Ron shook his head. "Sorry mate."

The boy frowned, and said, "Trevor…" under his breathe and left.

Susan raised an inquiring eyebrow, and looked at Ron for a moment. "Toad?"

"Probably kept as a pet," he replied, shrugging. "I have a rat myself." And he took out a rather fat rat from his jacket pocket. The rat looked asleep. "Name's Scabbers. A bit useless really. My brother Percy found him, and he's been in the family since."

"So, what's good about pets?"

"Well, if you got an owl, you can send your own messages. Most of the time, it's for companionship. Oh, and you can also use them to practise harmless spells." Ron then smiled a bit excitedly. "Which reminds me…" He brought out a wand, and Susan noticed how old it looked. "Yeah… Unicorn hair is sticking out. Anyway--"

Ron placed his sleeping pet on the table and had raised his wand when a girl entered.

"Excuse me, have you seen a toad around here?"

Susan smiled a bit. "We've heard that one already."

The girl frowned. "Oh…" and she was about to leave when she saw Ron. "Doing magic? Can I watch?"

Before Ron could reply, the girl sat beside Susan. For a moment, he just sat there, confused and then shrugged. "Okay… let's see. Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" And he waved his wand. Nothing. Scabbers still lay on the table, asleep.

"Is that a real spell?" the girl asked. "It's not that good, now is it? I tried a few practise spells and it all worked for me. Nobody in my family has magic at all."

"I know that feeling," Susan replied. "I remember when I got my letter… quite a shock."

"Yes, quite," the girl smiled at her. "I've read all the books in our course. I just hope that is enough." She paused. "Oh, excuse me. Hermione Granger."

"Susan Bones."

Hermione blinked. "You are? I have read all about you, of course."

"Background reading?" Susan guessed.

"Yes. You're in quite a lot of books, really. Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

Susan groaned visibly, and then looked at Ron. "See? Complete strangers."

He smiled slightly. Hermione looked confused, but shook her head, and looked at him expectantly. He gave himself a hasty introductory. "Ron Weasley."

"Charmed," Hermione replied. "Anyway, it's nice to meet you both, but I really have to help Neville with his toad. And you two better change. We'll be arriving soon, I'm guessing." She stood up and walked towards the door, and exited.

When she was out of an earshot, Ron heavily said, "I hope she isn't in my House… that would be a nightmare."

He meant one of the Four Houses of Hogwarts, of course. Susan only knew them by name: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaws, and lastly, Slytherins. Hagrid never really explained much about them, except commenting that people think Hufflepuff 'are a lot of ol' duffers' and how Slytherins attracted the dark kind of wizards.

"What house do you think you'll be in?" she asked.

"Well… all my brothers are in Gryffindor, but that's not a real guarantee…"

Before Ron could continue, the door opened again, revealing a boy with pale hair and face, accompanied by two other boys beside him.

"There are no toads here," Susan said immediately.

The boy blinked, frowned. "What about toads? You know, never mind. I hear Susan Bones is here."

"Yeah, here," she replied.

The blonde boy looked at her, an eyebrow raised. Susan had the oddest feeling she was being studied, just like earlier in the platform.

"You are Susan Bones? I expected someone more impressive."

Susan blinked then frowned. "Well, coming from you, that seems to be a favourable remark."

Ron stifled a laugh, and the blonde boy looked far from amused. In fact, his pale demeanour was now sporting red cheeks. Without even waiting for another word, Susan asked, "What do you want?"

His face was still a bit flushed, though his voice was calm when he replied, "There have been some rumours about you hiding mostly in the muggle world. Thrust here in a strange world, you will need some friends."

Susan stared at the boy, then towards his two companions, thickset and had ugly expressions. "Let me guess. You are here to extend your hand in friendship. Right?"

"Quite," the boy smiled. "I'm Draco Malfoy. This is Crabbe and this is Goyle." He stole a glance towards Ron, and shook his head. "Bones, you'll soon find that some families are better than others. You don't want to find yourself of the wrong sort. Take example, the Weasleys. A family with no absolute forethought, always having more children then they should."

Ron stood up and snarled, and Susan let out her arm, stopping him from his tracks.

"And I suppose the Malfoy family is the right sort, and raise their child on being rude and arrogant then?" she asked.

Malfoy face almost turned scarlet. "If I were you, Bones, I'd be careful. Or you'd end up like your parents."

This time, Susan's face turned slightly red. "And if I were you, Malfoy, I'd watch your mouth before someone puts a sock in it."

"Ho?" Malfoy grinned. "I'd love to see that."

"Seriously, Malfoy," Susan said. "Leave."

The pale boy ignored her, and looked towards their table still filled with sweets. "Seems you overbought. Did you buy all of these Weasley? Of course not, what was I thinking. You're too poor to afford any of these. Still, quite a waste don't you think? Maybe we'll help ourselves."

One of them, Goyle maybe, went towards the table and reached out to grab a Chocolate Frog. At this point, Susan stopped caring who it was or even how large he was, and with swiftness that surprised the offending boy, she grabbed him by the wrist, and flicked it in a rather painful angle. He screamed, and almost fell to a knee.

Malfoy and the other boy were too surprised to react. Susan controlled Goyle's motion, putting pressure to make him back away. Trace of emotion went away, leaving Susan's face a neutral mask as she stared at Malfoy and Crabbe.

"Last warning. Leave," she said.

"You… you're going to get in trouble for this, Bones!" Malfoy declared nervously. "Don't you know who my father is?"

Susan pushed Goyle away from her, hard, tripping his feet with her leg. The motion was so fast that if anyone not looking would think she just pushed a boy twice her size bodily outwards. Goyle fell backwards, his head landing towards Malfoy's face, who yelped in pain. And with Goyle's size, he shoved the unprepared Crabbe out as well, leaving the three sprawled on the corridor floor.

"Now, get out," Susan stated coolly, and closed the door.

"B-bloody hell…" Ron muttered, his eyes wide in shock. "How'd you do that!?"

Susan blinked. "What, that? Simple really. I trained. Had a few bully problems back when I was young. My uncle had me take self-defence class. My teacher taught me many of those forms back at home. Helped a lot."

"B-bu-but you just threw them out like crumpled parchment!"

"Don't be silly Ron," Susan smiled a bit as she took back her seat. "If that were true, I'd have thrown them out of the train."

Poor Ron looked even more confused. He slid down back at his seat, his back resting on the back cushion. "You're going to be in trouble…" he whispered. "I know his dad… rich and has influence."

Susan shook her head. "Believe me, last thing Malfoy will want is to tell daddy dearest he was just driven out by a girl."

Ron looked at her, and smiled weakly. "Good point."

The door slid open, and Susan, thinking it was Malfoy again, stood up, ready, until she spotted Hermione entering, looking confused.

"What has been happening here?" she asked.

Susan just smiled. "Nothing. Just… taking out some trash."

* * *

**Harry's Compartment**

Harry thought it was odd to find Malfoy and his cronies running back across the corridor of the train, with the Malfoy heir holding his nose. Crabbe and Goyle looked a bit shuffled themselves, and when he slid his door open, there was an excitable chatter following their wake.

"Did you see that?"

"Wow… what magic did she use to throw them off like that?"

"Didn't hear a spell. She just… threw them out!"

Harry raised an eyebrow, and closed his door. Apparently, they had run into someone, probably Susan Bones, who has some martial art training. He took a mental note not to instigate a confrontation unless it was absolutely necessary.

The train crawled to a stop. Harry, for the first time since the trip, flicked the curtain open, revealing the fading twilight as the darkening night sky loomed. They were on the platform at Hogsmeade, the town just outside Hogwarts proper. Students scuttled from their compartments, each of them having a few trolleys to pull their trunks with them. Outside, there was a voice, loud and heavily accented, calling first years. It was Hagrid.

The giant of a man gathered around the nervous looking students around him, and said, "Firs' years over 'ere! C'mon, 'urry up. Leave yer trunks on there, it'll be brought in, no worries. And whose toad is this?"

The Neville boy approached, happy in finding his toad safe and sound as Hagrid handed it to him. He then lined the students into three rows. Harry joined in an anonymous group of peers, making sure his eyes wandered slightly, looking around in case he'd need that kind of information on his planning.

Hagrid led them towards a large dock in the lake, and a few large, yet simple, boats floated on the wharf. He broke the students down to groups, and placed them on the separate water transports, he himself joining one where he noticed Bones and that redhead Weasley and Neville had ridden. The latter seemed to grow apprehensive with the giant man joining in, but the fear was unjustified. The wooden vessel kept afloat.

It was a marvellous sight. Under the velvet sky with shining pinpoint of stars, the castle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry suddenly popped from the background. The structure was massive and well lit. Harry could discern most of its features, ranging from multiple towers, the stone way bridge that crossed towards Hogsmeade, and the woodland area surrounding it.

Needle in a haystack, he thought. Would a year even be enough?

Around him, the students seemed awed as well, gasping silently in the relatively quiet night. The only group that seemed less attentive and impressed were Malfoy and his two bodyguards, apparently trying to regain some dignity.

The boats moved with magical grace, gliding through the water as if were sliding through smooth ice until they reached an overhanging cliff.

"Watch yer heads," Hagrid shouted.

Deeper into the cliffs was a cave hidden by hanging ivy. Delving further, most probably under the the base of Hogwarts itself, Harry guessed, the dark tunnel stretched, lit only by a small speck of light which grew larger and larger until they reached what seemed to be an underground harbour. The Gameskeeper then called all the first-years to disembark, and generally keeping order as they stepped off their boat.

The light source was actually a lamp, which Hagrid took as he led them towards a stairway leading upwards, until they reached a grassy ground covered by the castle's shadow. He then led them towards a huge oak wood door, and asked one last time, checked the status of the student body before he knocked on the door three times.

Each blow to the door drew a muffled echo from the inside, and the doors slowly slid open. Harry then, ironically, thought the whole setting made it more eerie than it was. Around him, the students seemed to shiver, and huddle closer together.

Here we are… about to enter the mouth of the beast, Harry thought as the door creaked to open fully. He couldn't help it. He smiled.


End file.
